Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1887-11-17
/" AUNT HANNAH.
Murray IS Magazine.

mine must be the "good creature of the
family.
It is large and scattered family and
gives ample scope for every kind of USE
fulness. Time was when was the spoilt
child of it; but years have hurried on,
the bright promise was early nipped in
the bud by the death of my dear parents,
privileged to pass away within twenty
four hours of each other.
AS left the churchyaVd where the sun
shone softly down upon their undivided
grave, and stroye to realize that hence
forward those true and tender hearts were
sharers In the glorious sunshine of Eter-
nal Day, looked into the cold, hard face
of my eldest brother, and knew that the
days of sympathetic love in my old home
were over and done with for me. Robert
was not unkind or unjust, but sympathy
was quality utterly wanting in his com
position, and if he were just and fair to-
ward others, what on earth could others
want more, in heavens namef he would
ask impatiently.
All, well, Justice is much; but love and
sympathy, what are they not worth in all
our lives, from the highest lady in the
land, whose sympathy never fails In time
Of need, down to TIE little school child,
who will spare few precious crumbs of
cake for the hungry robin in it's path?
My other brothers and sisters were all
married and scattered over the world, and
Roberts eldest child was but a few
years younger than myself, the youngest
CT their fathers generation.
For some years lived on in the dear
old home and strove to be of what use I
could. No one scrupled to make use of
me, am bound to say, and by degrees
the family motto seemed to be: "Aunt
Hannah will do it. She won't mind"
Did she mind? Sometimes think she
did.
The young ones were growing up, and
to them my few additional years consti
tuted, if not old age, at least advanced
middle age. Little did they think, while
their nimble feet Ihirled to Aunt Han
nah's playing Ct could play, and for many
reasons threw my heart into doing my
best for their dance music little did
they think, say, how my own shoes were
twitching under the piano with longing
to be given chance of a turn myself.
y One night overheard slim young
4 Guatdsboy murmur to my niece:
But, say, won't your aunt be tired,
playing SO long?"
'Tiredf Oh, no, she won't mind" re-
sponded Edith. ''She likes it."
/ bent my head over the piano and
gulped down the choke that almost over
powered me as 1 steadily marked time in
that valse tune of many memories. Up
before the eyes of my memory rose that
evening seven years before, upon which
my future life had seemed to hinge. I
was 30 then, and had been for two years
an inmate of my brothers home. I was
81 now, and was still considered too young
to have home of my own by my elder
relations, too Gid for young lady amuse
ments by the younger generation
So / steadily played on, and my
thoughts hoateC away backward to that
evening have limited at. l saw once
more a small, dark-haired girl, with hazel
eyes and far-away look in them, and
over her bent broad-shouldered, curly-
headed young giant, whose voice trembl-
ed as he sa1d "God bless you, darling
little Hannah; l will come tomorrow and
see Robert and you"
But oh, Mike, Mike, why did you never
oome-never, never, and the next thing
that l heard was that you had gone to
India the following week, and the year
after that you were married. And oh,
what had l done, what had done to de-
serve such a blow as this?
Had l misunderstood him? Good
heavens! had shown that L thought he
loved me, and he had meant nothing and
taken fright, and done the most merci-
full thing he could by vanishing from
out my lifeg
Night and day 1 wearied myself to
think out this agonizing puzzle. Speak
TO Robert dared not. What could ne
think of girl who had admitted she
loved some one, when the some one too
clearly wished not for her love?
Roberts wife was wrapped up in her
babies. and on the only occasion on
which had braced my heart to ask her
advice, had answered me through the
reigning infant: 'Tell her see mutten
be 'toopid and glum, my Tootsewootsee;
NUT 'tum and play wiz 90, my precious,
muttent seer"
Henceforward I fought my battle alone
and subsidized into the ong-suffering
placid Aunt Hannah, who was supposed
"not to mind the dreary bits of employ
ment which all the others shirked. j
just when / had stl uck 81 my rich old
grandmother died, and to my surprise
left me handsome slice of her fortune,
coupling it with the command that
should take her name in place of my own.
From Hannah Grey, l became, therefore,
straightway Hannah Sinclair. With nv
new name furthermore asserted my in
dependeEos, and set up for myself a little
house IN London. My dear old nurse
took the lead in my household, and the
frss mig ut that established my self by my
own freside and started as free lone
woman, laid my head on her knees and
cried as If my heart would break. Ail.ie
asked no questions, but stroked my head
in silence. Some people are blessed with
an instructive sympathy and tact Myi
dear old Ailsie was one of them. We never
once alluded to that evening in all the
long years we spent together; but some
how think she had grasped more than 1
had ever guessed.
By degrees ny little home became the
useful rendezvous of all the family. My
hall was many time filled with forbid
ding looking females, all unsummoned by |
me, but s'come by appointment to see
Mrs. Grey about the cooks place, mum,"
and presently cab would pull up with a
jerk and my sister-in law would hustle In
dropping brown paper parcels from her |